Those of Your Needs That You Won't Let Show
by blueink3
Summary: The aftermath of Will’s revelation and the people who help him pick up the pieces.


_**Sometimes in our lives we all have pain  
We all have sorrow  
But if we are wise  
We know that there's always tomorrow**_

**The aftermath of Will's revelation and the people who help him pick up the pieces.**

The second-hand on the clock ticked in time with the rapidly bouncing knee on the hard, cold floor – a nervous habit perfected over time. A tear fell on the messy desk calendar, blurring "Monday" and a penciled note about a Spanish quiz. The room was silent save for the clock and the occasional sniff.

He groaned and pushed his palm against his eyes hard enough to see stars. The deep-seeded hurt remained no matter how much pain he inflicted on the surface.

"Hey, Mr. Schue?"

Will looked up at Artie in the doorway and quickly brushed a hand across his face to confirm it was completely dry.

"What's up, Artie?"

Artie rolled slightly further into the room and shifted the books perched on his lap. "Glee was supposed to start twenty minutes ago. I'm the designated search party."

Will glanced at the clock above his desk and exhaled loudly. "Sorry, time got away from me. I'll be there in a minute."

Artie nodded and turned to leave. Will propped his elbows on the desk and dropped his head into his hands, feeling his chest constrict.

"Mr. Schue?" Artie had returned.

"I'm coming. I'm coming." Will pushed his chair away from his desk and metal screeched against linoleum. He was so numb that the grating noise didn't even register. He had no idea how long he had been sitting, but it was long enough to lose all feeling in his legs. He stood and swayed causing Artie to rush forward and attempt to brace him.

"Mr. Schue, go home. We can handle rehearsal."

He had seen their looks. Rachel in Spanish class. Tina in the hall. Artie in his doorway. A mixture of curiosity and pity, like they were aching to find out what was wrong yet somewhat hesitant to hear the truth. The truth would be out in a few hours anyway. Finn might have noticed but Finn didn't notice much these days. In fact, if Will had to guess, he probably looked a good deal like his student: wandering down the hall, a vacant look on his face and a permanent crease of hurt across his forehead. As for Quinn, well she avoided him at all costs.

Will closed his eyes and patted Artie on the shoulder. "Can't go home."

Artie made sure his teacher was steady before backing away. Will picked up his bag slowly, as if it weighed much more than the three notebooks it carried and hoisted it over his shoulder.

"Don't have a home to go to."

Will shuffled out the door and stood in the hallway, as if deciding in which direction to turn. He made a left and disappeared around the corner.

Making good on his promise, Artie picked up the sheet music from his teacher's desk and headed back into the rehearsal room.

XXXXXXX

The first night he slept in the auditorium, it wasn't half bad. He pushed two couch cushions that he borrowed from the teacher's lounge together and propped his head on a musty pillow he found in the prop room. The second night, though, he woke up at 3am with a cramp in his leg and a crick in his neck. He stole some Advil from the nurse's office and wandered the halls until light broke.

None of his students commented on the fact that had worn the same clothes two days in a row. Those that didn't know him assumed he had gotten lucky and shot him knowing smirks as they reviewed declensions. His kids, the ones that knew him well enough to leave him alone, helped in whatever way they knew how.

He sat at his desk staring at the papers that wouldn't grade themselves. His eyes wandered over to the picture frames lining the edge of his wooden desk. One of the kids at their first invitational, one of Terri that had since been placed face down. As he made his way to the final frame, something took hold in the pit of his stomach and didn't let go. The black and white image teased him, taunted him. He grabbed the sonogram and tossed it into the trashcan. Whose baby had he fallen in love with as he put in long hours grading papers and arranging music? It certainly wasn't his own. He had no little girl to spoil. No child to hold.

A soft knock broke him from his trance. His knuckles were white, they gripped the red pen so hard.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Schue," Rachel began.

"Is it time?" Will glanced at the clock on the wall. He had five minutes until Glee.

"Not yet." Rachel moved farther into the office and it was only then that he noticed the bedding in her arms, a pillow and two blankets. She scuffed her toe against the floor and bit her lip – nervous traits not common in Rachel Berry. She continued, "My dads were cleaning out the linen closet and they came across these. We don't need them, but I remembered you saying how fond you were of blue and I thought you could use them. You're often wearing jackets and I thought you might get cold easily and everyone can use some extra blankets, right?" she rambled. "…And pillows, I guess."

Will offered a small smile at sentiment behind the gesture. He had never told her his favorite color. "Thanks, Rach. You're right. I am fond of blue."

She smiled and placed the bedding on the chair across from his desk. "See you in five."

That night, he slept like a rock.

XXXXXXXXXX

A day later, Will stood outside his front door, staring at the wood, taking in the paint-cracks. Kendra had left a particularly shrill voicemail informing him that Terri was living with her for the time being and he needed to give them 24 hours to move out Terri's things before he could go back home.

Home. The name lost all sentiment to him now. He stared at the rusty numbers nailed into the door and seriously debated on whether or not he should put it on the market that afternoon.

Somewhere behind him, someone cleared their throat and a warm hand removed the keys that dangled loosely between his fingers.

"Mind over matter will only get you so far, Will. The door won't open of its own accord."

Will looked up into the large brown eyes that stared back. Emma shifted her weight and looked down at his key ring. Two keys and the grocery store club card hung from the treble clef key chain she had given him when he took over as Glee director.

"I was driving by and saw you standing here…"

He looked and sure enough, her car was parked on the curb.

"…It looked like you could use some company."

His face contorted for the briefest of moments as the tears almost took hold. He breathed deeply and swallowed hard, forcing them back down. "Em…"

Her hand never paused as she took his. "Come on, we'll do it together." She put his keys into the door and turned the lock. The door swung open and Emma waited for Will to make the first step.

His shoes echoed on the hard wood floor as he glanced around. The shelves were significantly less cluttered than when he had last seen them and her half of the closet was bare. Drawers stuck out, most likely from her haste to empty them. The bed was the same, as was the kitchen, and the living room.

Emma stayed in the hallway as Will crossed back and headed towards the craft room - the craft room that had been cleared out to make way for something else. They hadn't decorated or picked out a crib yet. The only proof that the room was meant for better things was a lone rocking chair haunting the far corner. He stood in the doorway and stared at it. It had been a gift from his parents. They bought it the day after he announced they were going to be grandparents. He had yet to break the news that they weren't.

He felt Emma's hand on his back and watched as she reached forward and shut the door, blocking his view.

"Not yet, Will. We'll deal with it later." She led him back to the kitchen and sat him down at the breakfast nook.

The next day he filed for divorce.

XXXXXXXXXXX

News spread quickly about his false fatherhood and impending divorce. He couldn't stand the stares and whispers, couldn't handle the pity and sympathy. Even Sue clapped a firm hand on his shoulder as he passed her in the hallway. For once, she didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. He locked himself in Emma's office for the rest of the day.

He returned to his classroom to find a bottle of whiskey on his desk with a note from Puck: _I would've gotten you Natty Light but I thought you needed something stronger. _

After a moment of deliberation, he grabbed the bottle and the key to the auditorium.

The concept of drinking on school property would have seemed inconceivable to Will three days ago. Now, nothing much bothered him. He sat on the stage in the auditorium and unscrewed the whiskey cap. The students and teachers were gone. He was alone. Always alone.

He took a swig straight from the bottle and winced as the amber liquid burned its way down his throat. He felt empty. There were no more tears to cry, no more curses to shout. He was spent.

An hour and half a bottle later, he lay spread-eagle on the stage singing off-key, slightly slurred Sinatra.

"_Yes sir, that's my baby. No sir, I don't mean maybe. Yes sir, that's my baby now…"_

His voice echoed off the walls, muffling the sound of the door opening and closing with a snap.

"…_Yes, ma'm, we've decided. No ma'm, we won't hide it – "_ His voice caught. He tried to continue but found his throat unusually tight. He covered his face with his hands and inhaled a deep, shaky breath.

The bottle that was nestled in the crook of his elbow was removed swiftly and he squinted one eye open to see who the booze-thief was. Finn stood over him and unscrewed the bottle cap. The rational part of Will's brain told him to protest. It was bad enough that a teacher was drinking on school property but he knew the sober side of him would not condone an underage student drinking on school property. As it was, the sober side of him was vastly outweighed by the intoxicated side.

Will made a half-hearted attempt to reach out and take the bottle back, but Finn walked backstage before Will could protest. He vaguely registered the sound of liquid being poured and it wasn't until Finn walked back onstage with an empty whiskey bottle that Will remembered there was a sink somewhere behind the curtain.

Finn sat down beside Will as he continued to stare at the ceiling. There wasn't even a clock on the wall to break the silence. Will knew he should somehow explain his state and apologize to his student, but of all the people in his life, Will knew that Finn understood best.

"I'm sorry, I…" Will's voice failed him again.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Schue. Our secret."

Will sighed and looked over at Finn. "How – how do you do it?"

"Do what?" Finn's eyes never strayed from the back of the auditorium.

"Get out of bed in the morning."

Finn picked at his fraying shoestring. "You just do. You think, today has to be better than yesterday because nothing can be worse than yesterday. Or the day before. So you get out of bed, and even if today sucks ten times harder than yesterday, you still think that tomorrow will be better. And so you get out of bed tomorrow. Eventually, you don't have to tell yourself anymore. You just do it. Whether you realize you are or not."

Will struggled to push himself into a seated position. Finn grabbed his arm and helped him up. "I don't have a bed. I mean, I do… have a bed. I just don't sleep in it." He paused and inhaled deeply. "I didn't care if it was a boy or a girl."

"I know, Mr. Schue… I know."

For three days, Will had kept all thought of his wife and his baby locked away, walled up behind a concrete dam. It was why he allowed himself only in his kitchen and living room, why he took the long way to work so he wouldn't have to drive by Sheets N'Things.

Will began humming again. _"Yes sir, that's my baby… No sir, I don't mean maybe…"_ The dam broke. _"Yes sir, that's my baby now…"_

Finn put his arm around his teacher just as Will collapsed sideways into him. "Come on, Mr. Schue, let's go home." Finn supported Will's weight as he led him to his car, drove him home, and deposited him as gently as he could on his couch.

XXXXXXXXXX

Will stumbled out his door the next morning to find Emma standing next to her car, a cup of coffee and a bagged bagel in hand.

"Emma?"

"I got an anonymous tip this morning that you might need a ride to work." She walked forward and placed the coffee in his hand. "You look like hell, William."

He wordlessly took the proffered breakfast but grabbed her hand to show his thanks. They drove to school in silence.

Arriving in his classroom, he found a bottle of aspirin from Mercedes and a jar of eye cream from Kurt with notes that read "_For the hangover" _and _"For the dark circles"_ respectively.

That afternoon, he asked Matt and Mike to help him with some "housework." He told them he wanted to remove some furniture, but when they arrived, they found only the rocking chair. Will easily could have handled the lone piece by himself, but Matt and Mike moved the rocking chair into the attic without saying a word.

XXXXXXXXXX

Will canceled Glee practice. Then another. And another. He knew they rehearsed anyway under Rachel's strict supervision. Their harmonies would filter down the hall and he would sit back in the shadows and listen. It was his only comfort.

He would sneak back into the rehearsal room after they left, sit at the piano and run his fingers over the keys. He would hit a note, decide the sound was too jarring and close the lid on the keys.

And so his days went. Without fail, Will would open his door every morning to find Emma waiting for him. She would drive him to work and he would find something from one of his kids sitting on his desk: cupcakes from Brittany and Santana, a card filled with gold stars from Rachel, sheet music from Artie and Tina with a note that read "_Whenever you're ready,"_ a tie from Kurt and Mercedes which was surprisingly tame considering their tastes, a CD from Finn, and more alcohol from Puck which Emma promptly confiscated. Despite the overcrowding, Will kept it all on his desk. Physical proof of the love he knew his kids had for him and which he returned in full.

Will put the CD in the stereo by his desk and sat back as Finn's voice filled the classroom.

"_Hey, Mr. Schue. It's us…_" A chorus of hellos erupted from the rest of the group. _"We're here to – oh crap."_ The sound of a microphone dropping echoed around the room. _"Nice going, idiot."…"Shut up, Puckerman." _Will couldn't help but chuckle as his kids bickered for a minute more but the smile slid from his face as they launched into a rendition of "Fix You." Will sat in the empty classroom, tears once again falling onto his daily planner. As the song came to an end, he pressed "stop" on the player. One person was noticeably absent from the chorus.

"Mr. Schue?"

Will stiffened at the sound of Quinn's voice. Will slowly turned towards the doorway but kept his eyes on the floor. The sight of her barely there belly was enough to send him over the edge. It mocked him, showing him something he didn't have. Something he thought he had.

"Mr. Schuester, I'm sorry. I can't even begin…" She trailed off and tentatively stepped further into the classroom. "I should have told you. But I was scared. I didn't want to hurt you, but… I thought your wife would tell you…"

Again, Will said nothing.

"I'm so sorry." Quinn turned to leave, but Will finally found his voice.

"It's not your fault, Quinn. I don't blame you."

Her shoulders slumped as if the great weight she had been carrying around was lifted. She gave him a soft smile and left the room. Will placed his head on his desk and closed his eyes. The dull ache in his chest was enough to make him want to curl up in a dark room and shut out the world.

A cool hand grazed the back of his neck and continued down his back. "You're a good man, Will Schuester." Emma turned to leave but Will grabbed her hand.

"Don't go. I just… don't go. Please."

Emma placed her free hand on the back of his neck again. He leaned into it.

"Come on," she gave his hand a tug. "Let's go home."

The next afternoon, Will walked into Glee practice as his kids were finishing up their set.

"Sounds good, guys… From the top."


End file.
